


I Only Want Milk and Honey Baby

by mokocchii



Category: South Park
Genre: Finger Fucking, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Fucking, Hand Jobs, Kinky Shit, Kyman - Freeform, M/M, Milking, Prostate Milking, Shameless Smut, cow boy kyle, cum filled face, farmer cartman, ginger khal AU, its my guilty pleasure, kyle is more human than cow btw, so cursed this AU, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-08-28 13:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokocchii/pseuds/mokocchii
Summary: “Feels good?”“S-So good.”“Yeah that’s right,” and he rolled a nipple between his fingers. “Doesn't feel nice when you disobey your master?”





	1. Kyle needs  s t i m u l a t i o n

Being a cow, Kyle realized, sucked ass.

He could go on and on about the inequality of how his kind, or “cow boys” were treated in society, and how they have to be used for milking and other uses to provide dairy to their farmer. How their appearance, human looking with the addition of tiny horns on their heads, flappy ears, a tail, and the ability to produce milk from their chest, was the only distinction to be treated separately from humans. It was if they were undeserving of respect, despite their ability to talk to humans, perhaps even better if given proper training and education. Kyle would have tolerated the whole situation if he were in better circumstances.

Like now for example.

“It’s the morning ginger!” the barn door slammed open, and Kyle groaned in annoyance at the sight of his owner.

“It’s not even 7am Cartman.”

“Eh! It’s Sir to _you_ stupid cow.” He returned, “After I feed the chickens and fetch the pail…you know exactly where I want you to be.”

Kyle grimaced, sitting upright and feeling the swell of his nipples meeting with the morning air. His ears flapped in frustration at that admission. “Okay, but let me have some food first.”

Something was instantly thrown in his lap.

Kyle jutted his mouth out, evidence of his anger being more pervasive. “A-An apple? That’s a snack!”

“Yeah, a snack. I can’t have you eat a lot right before I milk you, since you squirm like crazy.” He quipped happily, and adjusting the strap of his denim overalls, he said, “You know what they say; milking the ginger will fuck up a finger.”

“Who the hell says that?” Kyle said in exasperation.

“I do cow boy. Now get the hell out of your haystack. We got shit to do.”

Shaking his head, he watched the human walk off, sounds of his rubber boots crushing against the hay. Now eying the outdoor scenery, bright blue skies stretched out crisply, with clouds barely in sight. For a moment it felt familiar, like the home he once had.

In the beginning Kyle was owned by the human named Stan, and overall, he was a great farmer. Albeit awkward when he had to get milked, the two had good conversations, laughed, told stories, even allowing Kyle into the farmhouse, a privilege to any farm animal. Unfortunately, Stan had to move to another range because his father was selling the entire farm to venture into the weed business.  Every single animal on the farm was distributed, and he was alone as the last being on the land. Stan was desperate to find Kyle a good home, but everyone he tried convincing to unanimously decline into taking in a cowboy.

Despite being a close friend to Stan, the human Kenny was a roamer, and didn't have any stability. Clyde only liked cowgirls to produce for him, Craig was vigilant on only keeping this one cowboy who had blonde crazy hair, and Token was out of the question. While an ideal owner, he wasn't even in the milk business! He sold meat. (and Kyle would rather _not_ be someone’s dinner).

And when it seemed all hope was lost, the ginger Kyle cow was sold to Stan’s childhood friend, Eric Cartman.

Cartman’s farm was slightly bigger, and while Kyle had to admit the place to be more spacious, it surely didn't feel like the home he lived with Stan. And it was odd that from the few moments they’ve met, Cartman would willingly accept Kyle onto his farm as a permanent resident. They didn't exactly get off on the right foot.

The first time they met, Kyle was tempted to kick him in the head! The constant insult to Stan and to himself was certainly not needed. And nitpicking about Stan having a cow who was a ginger was one of Cartman’s favourite insults. And he never referred to Kyle as his given name. It was either “ginger” or “cowboy”, infuriating Kyle tenfold.

But no, the moment Cartman heard about Stan needing someone to take his cowboy, the large man leaped at the opportunity. Stan was pleasantly surprised, and it was decided Kyle would belong to Cartman from now on.

Stretching on his feet after eating that supposed breakfast, Kyle encountered another brisk wind on his chest, and he shivered, wondering when Cartman would provide him with a shirt. When moving onto the farm, Cartman gave him a brand new outfit to fit the “aesthetics” of the farm, which included shorts, socks, and gloves. Gloves! Granted the gloves helped when he had to help around the farm but it wasn't needed!

And the new cowbell on his neck didn't help either. He had one with Stan, but it was much smaller and plainer. Cartman’s excuse to throw out the old one was “Can’t have my cowboy looking like a dirty ass mess!”

Another thing brought into question was why the hell Cartman wanted him to be on the farm as his cowboy. From the ginger’s recollection, Cartman had enough cows on the farm (albeit full cows). Kyle didn't know how much impact he could do, considering he can only provide half as much milk as the pure breed cows.

“Good morning Kyle!”

Kyle’s floppy ears flickered at the happy tone. Standing outside was a small lamb, covered in white and had a round pink face, looking fondly up. “Oh hi Butters.”

The lamb giggled. He was more lamb than boy, but he still wore clothes, a t-shirt and shorts. (begs the question why Kyle couldn't have that same treatment). “What a nice mornin’, isn’t it Kyle?”

“Uh, it is.” He said, and then he surveyed to the farmhouse, “Where did fatass go?”

“Oh geez Kyle,” Butters mumbled, “You know farmer Cartman doesn't want you to call him that. It’s not very nice.”

“He never calls me Kyle.” He argued back, crossing his arms. “Until I get respect he’s not getting mine.”

“But he does respect you!” The tiny lamb shouted, “He mentions you a lot,”

“As a “ginger” or a “cow boy”. And when he does say it it's in a mocking manner.”

“He sometimes does. He’s just being silly.” Replied Butters, like a dutiful supporter. As someone as nice as Butters, he surely doesn't see the issues of his so-called “amazing” owner.

“Butters!” Cartman’s voice cut the air, and the lamb jumped in apprehension.

“Uh, yes?”

He approached the two farm beings, a bucket in his hand. “Why you talking to the cow boy?” Kyle felt his brow twitched.

“Uhh…no reason sir.”

“Then boot. You have your jobs.”

“R-Right away sir!” he saluted, and off he ran.

Taking a gander at his new owner, Kyle saw starch contrasts from Stan. For one, Stan was slimmer, and Cartman, while not obese, definitely had this hefty appeal to him.  His shoulders too were wide, like his jaw...nothing smooth about this human. Just harsh edges, like the way his eyes were so sharp and intense.

“Admiring your owner little cowboy?” Cartman sneered.

Kyle flinched. Wait he was staring? He quickly shrugged it off. “If you mean looking at you in disgust, then yes.”

“Cruel cow boy, truly.” He said, and he wiggled the bucket. “Guess what time is it~~?”

Kyle nervously sighed. “Now?”

“What other fucking time I’ll do it ginger?” he went to go sit on his usual milking stool at the back, beside a wooden stall. Kyle followed suit.

“C’mon,” he patted his thighs, “time to milk up.”

“Fuck you.” Kyle said with a glare, but he still abided to his farmer’s orders, getting on his knees on the ground.

“Oh ho!” The hefty farmer tried to look aghast, “that behaviour Khal! Terrible I might say.”

 _Just grin and bear it,_ Kyle reminded himself. After all, his situation could be worse. He could be beef.

“Ha,” His tail flickered, feeling Cartman’s hands on his nipple, squeezing. He evidently shivered.

“You sensitive today?” Cartman focused on his chest, stimulating the nibs.

“It’s cold, a-and your hands are cold.” He huffed.

“Duh, it’s the morning. When it is ever smoking hot?”

“N-Never.” He said, and he kept squirming under Cartman’s hands. A particular sensation made him jolt. “Ouch! That hurt!”

“What?”

“That!” Kyle gestured to his chest, “Do it more gently!”

“Gentle? How the hell Imma gonna get the milk if I don't do it rough?”

“Stan did it more gentle!”

“Well I’m not Stan cow boy! I’m not doing what he did!”

“You always pinch hard though!” he yelled, “It feels uncomfortable!”

“So what, you want it to feel good?”

He bit his tongue to keep that yes in. “T-Tolerable!”

“Fuck that. I do it my way. And you keep moving! I can’t do it properly if you moving like a drunken cow you stupid ginger!”

Kyle’s nose flared, angling his face back, hair red as his cheeks. _“Screw you fatass! I said do it_ gentle _!”_

Now, the few times Kyle called Cartman a fatass, the farmer immediately went onto a rant, bitching how he wasn't being appreciated and how Stan did him for cheap when he sold him.

But now, Cartman was oddly silent.

After several seconds, the human clicked his tongue in disinterest. “Fine, if you’re gonna be like this,” Cartman stood up. “I won’t.”

Kyle almost lost his balance on his hands. “What?”

“Milking. I’m not gonna milk you.”

“You’re gonna do it later then?”

“Nope.” He quipped, a bit too complacent, “If you’re not gonna obey your master, then I’m gonna not milk you. Let’s see how long you can last without me taking that ginger milk.”

Kyle sat back on his knees, shaking his head. “Wait. You can’t do that.”

 “Oh? You’re always mad when I do it. So I’ll respect my _cow boy_.” He grinned, “Butters talks by the way.”

He was flabbergasted, almost breathless. “So what? Because I’m difficult? I’m not difficult Cartman! You are!”

“There!” Cartman pointed out, “Exactly. Always saying something to argue back. Ha! Not this time. Not until you're fully complicit, and take my hands like a big cow boy you are.”

“But that's...that's not fair!” Kyle exclaimed, “It’s your job to do it.”

“Well it’s a privilege for you now.” He sneered, shoving his face into Kyle’s, “So until I hear you begging on all fours, you’re gonna be untouched… _Khal_ ,”

He swallowed thickly at the sound of his name. “…I-I’m not begging.” Kyle stared back.

A Cheshire like grin beckoned the farmer’s face. “Hm. Then suffer.” Cartman shrugged, walking back out, pail under his arm. Kyle quietly seethed, watching Cartman pack up. He then hollered out, “Enjoy the feeling of heavy breasts and submission!”

Once that clicked, Kyle’s tail and ears hung low at that realization.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you doin' alright Kyle?”

He groaned into the hay.

“I can’t hear you Kyle.”

He lifted his face up. “I’m okay Butters. Just…let me be for awhile.”

“Oh alright.” The lamb boy jumped off the roll of hay he was sitting on. “But uh, you don’t look really good. Ya sure you don't want me to get Farmer Cartman? I bet he can make ya feel much – “

 _“I said I’m fine!”_ he yelled, and he dragged himself up to sit. “Just…go, okay?”

With that, Butters trotted off, leaving a very frustrated Kyle to mop around the barn.

Now that bet with Cartman of not being milked, at first, started off great. Through the first day he acted out as normal, did his usual stuff, ate, hung out with the other animals, went to sleep. In fact he barely noticed how he needed to get milked. He figured if this kept up, he could last a week without being milked. It wasn't like he produced a lot anyhow. And eventually Cartman would cave and do it. Who would want the milk to go waste?

But the next day when he woke up, the feeling slapped him in the face.

His nipples suddenly felt heavy, gaining a rounded shape, and when he stood, he marginally felt them jiggle. Kyle stupidly thought Cartman would come and visit, gloat about his victory, but he never did. In fact he didn't even see him the entire day! Kyle was quietly worrying about his dilemma, that if he could even make it to the end of the week. He did some failed attempt to milk his own breast, but the feeling wasn't the same. And it didn't work at all.

Third day he did catch a glance of Cartman who was feeding the chickens, and Kyle was had the compelling need to stare hard at the human’s hands. Those hands that crushed the grains, held the bag tightly, did everything with intend and force. Those fingers were so, _so_ big and thick –

Kyle shook his head, feeling his face flush. No. He wouldn't falter this standoff. No matter how tempting the idea was to be milked. Moving around, he felt his chest move _with_ him. And he continued to feel tired, like it took extra effort to be mobile. Kyle gritted his teeth everytime he moved, trying to keep the pain in. His cowbell was the dreadful reminder of how slow he was moving.

By the end of the fourth day however, Kyle was fucking desperate.

The barn door slide open, and Cartman strode in. Butters greeted him from his stall. “Morning Farmer Eric!”

“Why _morning_ Butters!” he greeted, feigning happiness. “Isn’t it a nice day?”

“Sure is!”

“Why don’t you go outside and eat your breakfast? And go right to your duties after. Make sure the other lambs don't be stupid and run off!”

Butters ran off. With that done, Cartman began digging through supplies when he heard his name.

“Cartman.”

“Hm?” he didn't bother turning around, “Kinda busy here.”

Kyle felt his hands shaking as he leaned up. “C-Cartman, I –“

Hearing his tone, Cartman glanced to Kyle’s stall, and there on all fours, a tub of red hair and tiny horns facing him. He heard heavy breaths.

"Y-You win."

"Win what?" he intoned, and Kyle groaned. "I have no idea what you're talking about cow boy."

“Please,” Kyle whispered, “I can’t…”

“What was that Khal?”

He mumbled heatedly, “…ease mil me.”

Cartman picked his ears in a mocking manner. “Hm. I’m having trouble hearing. Wanna say it louder?”

“Milk me.”

“I’m again so sorry Khal, what was –?”

This time, Kyle groaned loudly and huffed, “Please sir! I need to be milked by you! I feel so full a-and I can’t take it anymore! Please! I need relief!”

Heaving out the embarrassing truth, Kyle only heard his heaving breath, ready for another remake from his farmer how uncooperative he was, another rant, and the simple line of ‘I told you so.’

So, it was a bit of a surprise when his chin was lifted up to face Cartman directly in the face, and no smirk in sight.

“Spread your knees.”

Kyle shivered, his eyes not removing from the human’s as widened his position, giving a generous amount of space of his body exposed for the farmer.

Cartman’s hand lingered at Kyle’s face, oddly gently, and eventually caressed all the way to the side of his chest, stroking underneath near his nipples.

“Hm, they look full.”

Kyle’s whole face felt hot. “C-Cause they are.”

Cartman unexpectedly cupped them hard, and _damn_ did that make Kyle arch his back instantly.

He began squeezing, and Kyle choked off a groan. “A-Ah, so hard.”

Cartman arched a brow. “You gonna complain again?”

“I’m not but it still hurts dammit.” Kyle said, his tail curling.

He pulled up a bucket under Kyle, “You cow boys. Especially you ginger cows. So stubborn and stupid.”

His head jeered back, squinting a weak glare. “I might not be human but I’m far from being stupid–!”

Kyle’s mouth was suddenly agape, feeling the delightful sensation of fingers pulling at his nipples, tugging and squeezing. He immediately shut up; thoughts swirled on Cartman’s thick dexterous fingers.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding!” Cartman smirked, seeing how receptive Kyle was, and shots of white liquid began streaming out in fluid motion. “Look at all this milk…”

He choked off a whimper, trying to keep his voice low, but goodness the feeling felt so good…he couldn't help himself with the sounds he was making.

Pulling a bit harder, Kyle’s spin curled sharper, and his ass came into a perfect view for Cartman. A hand was placed there, trying to keep Kyle still.

“Feels good?”

“S-So good.”

“Yeah that’s right,” and he rolled a nipple between his fingers. “Doesn't feel nice when you disobey your master, right?”

“Never.” He panted, his heart rate escalating. What was this feeling? Being milked never felt this…great before. Every second Cartman had his hand on him Kyle got strangely excited. And something felt tight between his legs.

Cartman tugged harder, and Kyle yelped a choked moan.

“H-Ha, so good, so good Cartman,”

“Mhm that’s it, keep telling me that,” his other hand rubbed along Kyle’s ass, and gave a light pat, “You’re my cow boy Khal. Need to take care of you.”

“Ah, please keep taking care of me,” Kyle didn't know what he was saying, but he didn't care, not when he felt so fucking good, “Keep milking me till I have nothing left,”

Cartman grinned. “That’s what I want to hear every fucking day ginger,” and he quickened his pace, the method now messier, as the milk spread all over his hands, “Khal you have so much, I have to do something different…”

His red hair fell between his eyes, trying to focus. “W-What do you mean?”

“Nothing bad.” He switched hands now grasping Kyle’s shorts with his milk-covered one, rubbing his hand up slowly at the hip before returning down…underneath.

Kyle’s cowbell jingled loudly as he jerked at the feeling. “Wha –“

“It’s okay Khal,” Cartman reaffirmed, his hand now fully underneath the fabric, holding onto Kyle’s ass cheeks with his bare hand. “It’ll make you get your milk out faster.”

Something better than what he was doing now? Kyle nodded a bit too anxiously.

The hand slid lower, stopping at the cleft, and his middle finger poked out, teasing a certain spot that made Kyle gasp.

“What’s that?” he wheezed. He felt wetness, considering Cartman’s hand was just milking him moments ago.

“A sweet spot.” He said, and grazing it a few more times, his finger dug in.

“Oh gosh!” Kyle almost stumbled onto his elbows, completely overwhelmed at Cartman’s hand. He clenched the hay under his gloved-covered hands.

“Better?”

“Mhm. So much, h-ha,” another finger stretched in, and Kyle bit his lip. “I never got m-milked like this before.”

He kept stroking his fingers in and out, his hand’s movements evident under the fabric. “You’ll learn more the longer you stay with me.”

He nodded, clenching his eyes.

“And up cow boy. You forgot the bucket was under your tits?”

Kyle obliged, shakingly keeping his posture higher.

“You like being milked hard Kyle?”

“Uh-huh,” he said, rocking his body forward at the motion of Cartman’s hand.

“Can’t hear you ginger.”

“H-Harder.” His tail swayed, and his chest felt tight, and he was sure his nipples, that were just milked minutes ago, had suddenly heaved in soreness and weight, as if they’ve been refilled with his liquid once more.

Between the fingers at his hole and those on his chest, Kyle’ breathing became short, and soon he was squealing in pleasure. But he wanted more. He suddenly wanted more.

He threw his head back, “Go harder! The harder the better!”

“Who are you asking Khal?” Cartman increased his movements.

“Y-You! My master!”

“What are you asking your master?!”

He sobbed, “Pull my nipples harder master!”

“Beautiful!” and he did just that. The barn filled with sounds of milk gushing into the metal bucket, along with Kyle’s moaning. And finally, Cartman grasped Kyle’s nipples with both hands, clenching them tightly and milk spilled between the cresses of his fingers. Kyle screamed happily.

“There ya go…” Cartman watched the milk overfilling the bucket, rotating between that and Kyle’s face of relief.

“Now,” he said, “Are you gonna listen for now on?”

He panted, trying to recover his train of thought, “O-Okay.”

“Good boy.” Ruffling the red hair, Cartman grabbed the milk bucket and took a quick sample with his finger. “Hm, not bad ginger! This batch seems sweeter than normal.”

Feeling delirious, he simply nodded.

“Coming back in the evening Khal!” he yelled obnoxiously, “You better be ready then.”

With that knowledge, Kyle felt himself twitch delightfully, the feeling running over his body. Oddly enough, despite that being the greatest milking he ever experienced in his life, something felt off.

And that’s when he realized he was stiff between his legs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was ginger kyle...and god can't believe I wrote that. I blame my friends convincing me. But I did have fun writing it. Need something mindless and this is my outlet.
> 
>  
> 
> Like my shit? Follow me!  
> [mokocchii.tumblr.com](https://mokocchii.tumblr.com)


	2. We want that b e a u t i f u l cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter dedicated to a besite's belated bday. I know your bday was last month fuck I will still dedicate this to you cause you inspired me to write this. Love you friend!

“And…that's the end of it,”

Kyle groaned shakingly, his back curling like a perfect bow. He blinked out the sweat out of his eyes, gazing at the hay that was crushed under him. His chest was wet, smeared with milk residue that was just squeezed out of him, and frankly, he couldn't control his breath.

Cartman grinned, dusting off his hands in contentment. “You did good ginger.”

He huffed with indignation. Ears flapping downward, it was a feeble attempt to cover his embarrassment. “Whatever.”

“Don’t get mad,” he snickered, picking up the bucket, jiggling it. “Hear that? A lot of milk for daddy.”

“Ugh, don't say that.” he groaned, lying on the hay now.

“Respect my _authoritah_.” He quipped, “My farm, but rules bitch.”

“I’m not a bitch!” he said back, despite how tired he sounded, “I’m not a female dog.”

“To me you are,” he leaned over, stroking Kyle’s hair, “A soft one at that.”

Kyle froze, freezing at the uncharastically soft touch. His tail ceased movement.

“But alas,” he let go, back to smirking, “You’re forever annoying.”

“Same could be said for you.” He returned, not daring to look at him. Cartman made no note of it, and he took his stuff and went out his way.

With Cartman gone, Kyle rose up to lie against the wooden frame. His head fell back, sighing loudly as he lazily gazed at his surroundings.

Kyle hated to admit, but that was a deliciously satisfying milking session he just had. Ever since that time – god, Kyle wanted to gag – had willingly complied to Cartman’s ridiculous demands of “begging”, milking hadn’t been the same. It brought a delightful chill up his spine when he heard that pail coming closer, his face felt hot when Cartman groped his chest…it was all so puzzling by the time it ends he’s left alone confused and frankly…uncomfortable. The third leg (he’s begun to notice it a lot) becomes extremely taut after milking now, and no matter how Kyle sat or stood, he was painfully aware of its stiffness.

Kyle had basic knowledge of what this…third leg did. If he had to pee it came out of there. But the sensation of peeing was much different of this latest feeling that fell upon him after milking. He remembered asking Stan back on his farm what was its function, or why it would lift like it was its own muscle on cool early mornings. Stan would become absolutely flustered, dodge the question, and wouldn't look Kyle in the eye for a good while. Kyle didn't bother bringing it up again, thinking it upset him.

But now, the question about its true identity was terribly enticing.

Dusting off any hay sticking to his shorts, he eyed the button-down shirt hung on the banister casually. Grabbing it, he rubbed the fabric between his fingers curiously.

A few days ago while Kyle was cleaning the barn he felt the weight of fabric thrown his head haphazardly. Blinking, he noted the human’s form at the door, crossing his arms and awkwardly looking away from him.

“Here, now you won’t bitch bout' the cold.”

Kyle didn't know how to respond to such a strange situation, for his owner was actually exhibiting kindness, so all he could do was nod mutely back before Cartman walked off.

He figured Cartman probably got him the oldest shirt he could get, but Butters pointed it one day when he was wearing it that it was _Cartman’s_ old shirt when he was younger and thinner. An immediate reaction should have been to throw the shirt off of him, disgusted of the thought of smelling like his human owner, but oddly enough all he did was circled his mouth in faint surprise before returning back to whatever task he was doing, _continuing_ to wear his shirt.

A baffling question Kyle had for a while was how he felt… _weird_ when he was around Cartman. They still weren’t on friendly terms, and their debating was constant. (Kyle would point out how lazy Cartman was on the farm, which the large human would do this “Eh!” and insult Kyle back on something trivial yet triggering, leaving poor Butter on the side trying to quell them down). Their behavior around each other didn't change in the slightest, but once they were alone to milk – he felt his cheeks heat up – Cartman became this oddly caring human. He’ll ask if Kyle likes it, he’ll respond stupidly eager. Sometimes, Cartman would even graze his hands under his shorts, clasp his butt and tease his finger at his hole, and oh god it made Kyle terribly loud. Cartman kept reassuring it made milking more enjoyable, and it did. It wholeheartedly did, heightening Kyle’s senses like no other. When they were done, he’ll be left winded and red on the ground, and Cartman would have a strange look in his eyes as he ruffled Kyle’s hair, playfully touching his horns before leaving.

Kyle had no idea what his master was doing, but it was at those moments he felt like they didn't hate each other. It was as if they saw each other strangely equal, no hostility or guarded thoughts. Just exposed with their touches and hushed words that didn't go beyond the stables.

Shaking off his confusing thoughts, Kyle buttoned up his shirt, which was oddly matching the black and white theme Cartman bestowed on him. Leave it to the human to be stupidly coordinated with his farm animals. With that, he shrugged and went to clean to barn.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hiya Kyle!” Butters exclaimed, chipper as ever. It was the late afternoon, and both Butters and Kyle had finished their chores. It was weird since they were farm animals they had to clean, but they actually had human personas, and that was no excuse for Cartman to make them work.

The lamb held a basket of flowers in his hands, smiling up at the cow/human hybrid.

“Hi Butters,” Kyle said, eying at the lamb’s hands. “You flower picking again today?”

“Yup! It’s fun. Especially when I made a little song.” He bobbed his head happily, humming, “ ‘ _Lu Lu Lu, I've got some flowers. Lu Lu Lu you've got some too.’_ I’m gonna make one about apples next.”

He smiled lightly. “Yeah. Guess it’s nice.” He saw the other cows out on the field, mostly eating the grass. Kyle didn't eat grass (he tried once, it was gross) and his taste was more intoned to his human side mostly. Partly to blame of Stan’s upbringing.

He debated to sit by the tree and take a nap (seriously, that milking wore him out from the morning) but his eyes caught a large standing figure near a cow.

His feet went to it without thinking.

“Butters,” Cartman grumbled, not turning around “Stop showing me the fucking flowers. I don't care how pretty they are and how they match the sun – !” he blinked, seeing a taller yet skinner figure standing by him. His demeanor changed slightly before he emitted a weak ‘tsk’, pulling at the cow’s udder again. “Oh. What does my dear cow boy want?”

Yeah, what did he wanted? He had no reason to bother Cartman. He should’ve stuck with his first proposition of napping. “Uh, nothing.”  
“Really?” he inquired, “Knowing you, you always want some shit from me.”

“Just…watching you.” He cringed how odd that sounded. “Like, with your work. I, uh did this with Stan.”

He snorted sharply. “Being a creep?”

“It’s not creepy observing,” he crossed his arms, “And it’s not like I have a lot to do. I don't have much chores besides keeping the barn clean.”

“Then pick flowers. Be Butters 2.0.”

“You’re so fucking rude Cartman.” 

“Thanks. I try to be.”

He ruffled his hair, mindful of the tiny horns that peeked out. “Gah, you’re infuriating.”

“Well I’m the infuriating human who milked you,” Cartman quipped back, “So stop your complaining.”

Glaring at his head, this should have been the signal to leave, but instead he continued to stand there, his eyes eventually moving to Cartman’s hands.

Still feeling his presence behind him, Cartman slouched. “You still haven’t left?”

He leaned forward, glancing at the bucket. “That’s full.”

“What?”

“That.” he pointed. “You need another bucket.” He pulled the bucket away, grabbing an empty one beside Cartman and giving it to him.

“Gah…” he leaned back, “Fuck. Fine. I’m done. I give up.”

“Give up what?”

Cartman crossed his arms, his brows twitching together. “You’re acting weird ginger. What’s up?”

“How am I acting weird?”

“You’re like, helping me and shit.” He groused under his breath, “I don't like it.”

He deadpanned. “Aren’t farm animals supposed to help their farmer?”

“Yeah, but – “ he looked confused, and finally he groaned loud. “Fine! Stay. Just don't bother me with this. I need to milk like five of these fuckers.”

“How long does it take?”

“If I don't stop, 2 hours.”

“Wow,” he snickered, “That’s kinda slow.”

“Eh! Not like they come to me at command! I have to chase them half the time! Lazy asses. And Butters doesn't so shit as a herder.”

“He’s a lamb.”

“Exactly. A lousy herder.”

Rolling his eyes, he gazed at the cows scattered about. “Okay, so how bout I get them?”

“Huh?”

“Me. I can talk to cows, or at least understand them. I am part cow.”

“You’re willing to help me? Your master?”

“Yes, I just said farm animals are supposed to help dumbass!” he yelled, feeling to force out those words with a verge of anger. “And like, you got me clothes…so I need to contribute back.”

They stared at each other, and Cartman had on a contemplating pout before shrugging, “Fine. Use up your free time fetching your kind.”

Kyle shook his head.

“But…” Kyle’s ears twitched at that hesitance, “Thanks. For the offer. Ginger.”

His tail swayed under him, a foreign feeling pooling in his stomach. “You’re welcome.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was evening, and Kyle returned to the barn, tired and all. Despite being part cow, these other cows weren’t as willing to comply like Kyle hoped for. The last three was insufferable, making Kyle fall flat on his face. He heard Cartman’s reverberating laugher across the field.

He did take a short nap in the sun after, but didn't recall where. He just remembered waking up to Butters shaking him awake, saying they were leaving the field.

Kyle ate some dinner, then Mr. Kitty came by, meowing from the bench. Cartman was an odd human indeed, but at least he had a cute pet. Mr. Kitty was obvious in his affection to Kyle.

As it continued to purr, the barn door swung open, and Kyle didn't even need to look up.

“Mr. Kitty!” Cartman whined, “Stop coming in here. You’re gonna smell like barn.”

“Geez, thanks Cartman.” He flatly stated, watching the cat jump off his lap and run outside.

Cartman ventured deeper, into Kyle’s side of the barn. Kyle followed suit. “I don't know why he likes coming in here. All his shit is in my house.”

“Maybe it’s because he actually likes me,” he replied, sitting down on the hay. “Every animal here does.”

“Ha! You probably used your ginger powers on them.” He sneered, “A rare ability of the ginger cow boy.”

“Screw you fatass.”

“Not fat, big-boned.” He placed the bucket down, sitting on the stool. “Now let’ those tits.”

“Don't say it like that,” Kyle frowned, unbuttoning his shirt. He placed the shirt aside, sitting on all fours, right above the bucket. Sounds of clanking and gloves were distinctively heard, and suddenly thick fingers were on his chest again.

He cooed softly, the familiar tug and pull on his nipples, and he bit his lip to hold any further sounds spilling from his mouth. When Cartman twisted one nipple albeit too tightly, Kyle whimpered loud.

“What? I didn't pull hard!”

“N-No, it wasn't hard, well it was but –“

“But what?”

Kyle was mortified what he admitted next. “It felt g-good…alright?”

Cartman arched a brow, continuing his strokes. “What happened to soft and gentle?”

“Well, A-Ah opinions change. Didn't yours change?”

“Oh, on what?”

“I don't know.” _On you?_ He was tempted to say, but he held it in.

When there was no answer, Cartman grumbled. “You’re a weird ass cow boy Khal.”

“Ha.” He snorted breathlessly, “And you’re a weird human.”

“Eh, I’m not weird. I’m fucking awesome.”

“Suuure – ah!” that was a hard tug, and he glared back, “You did that on purpose!”

“Whoops. My hand slipped.”

“R-Rude.” His eyes widened when another hand reached to his backside. His hands became tight fists, panting at the sensation.

“You gonna go in?”

“Only if you beg.”

He groaned. “What is with you and begging?”

“I like it. Especially from you so.”

“Ugh….” He hung his head low, “Fine. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Cartman.”

“I hear my name very clearly thank you.”

His hazy green eyes peered up at his master, and he muttered those forbidden words. “Please take care of me…sir.”

A frenzy smile stretched on his face. “That’ll do.” And immediately his hand snared into Kyle’s shorts, patting his ass hard.

“Got a say, you have a nice ass…for a cow boy.”

He was too focused on the hand he almost missed it. “My ass?”

Cartman quickly spat his fingers, then returning to his backside, playfully pushing against his hole before inserting one. Kyle’s knees wobbled.

“Oh god.”

“Good boy.” He kept the momentum, massaging the nipples while simultaneously fingering. As odd as it looked, it was an intoxicating scene to witness.

Finally, the last of the milk squirted out, and Kyle exclaimed sharply, gaping his mouth open.

“Nice.” Cartman wasn't even looking at the bucket, but at his cow boy’s rosy cheeks, seeing his senses returning from euphoria.

He picked up the bucket, checking its contents, and as usual, sampling it lightly. He hummed in odd amusement.

Kyle threw himself down, his lungs desperate for oxygen. He eyed Cartman lazily from the hay, the usual cycle cleanup coming in full circle.

Lying on the hay, he felt that “third leg” tight as ever, mushed against the barn floor, and it was extremely uncomfortable. Kyle wanted to ask, so many times, but he always presumes he’ll ask another day.

But fuck it he’ll do it before he lost courage.

He had to ask.

Kyle sat up, “Mr. Cartman?”

The human almost stumbled being addressed with authority, the bucket shaking at his hands. Brown eyes looked back apprehensively.

“Okay, this is kinda hard to explain but uh, I think there’s more milk.”

“You just produced it now?” Cartman said dumbly, “That’s like, impossible, even for a horny cow like you Khal.”

“Horny?”

“Like wants the D – ugh nevermind.” He slumped back down on the stool, observing, “Kay back on all fours.”

“It’s not my chest.” He said, and Kyle felt his tail hung low. He hoped his master would pick up the signal, but alas, he didn't.

“Then what?” Cartman crossed his arms, “You got a third nipple hidden I haven’t felt up?” He then moved in front of Kyle, using bare hands to fondle his chest, even down his back and stomach. “I don't feel anything.”

Kyle stiffed at Cartman’s sudden close proximity, seeing how brown the human’s eyes were, like the rustic wood on the barn walls. It was terribly frustrating how perspective he was, and how the human’s large hands grappled his skin all knowingly.

Gulping, Kyle weakly pointed to the space between his legs. “There. Uh, I’m not sure, but I think it’s milk.”

Cartman blinked slowly at this revelation. “You want me…to milk you…down there?”

“Isn’t it milk?” Kyle said huffing, “It feels tight. And it…it never felt tight before after a milking.”

If possible, his eyes widened even more. “This happened more than once?”

“Like, since the milking you touched my –“ he gestured with his hand, “Butt.”

“…Are you asking for a handjob Khal?”

“What the hell is that?” he asked, annoyed about his limited knowledge, “Is this some lingo humans use?”

“Yeah…” Kyle eyed Cartman with scrutiny, as if his master was debating with himself. Was this third leg so secretive even Cartman, a crude, insensitive human, wasn't even willing to disclose its purpose? Kyle had questions, and he wanted them answered dammit!

“So?” After several moments, Kyle remained determined, “Are you gonna tell me what it does or not?”

“Wait, Stan never told you what it does?”

He shook his head. “No…I thought it was another nipple, but when I explained it to him, he got all nervous and ran off.”

“Pff. Please. Stan’s always been a pussy.”

“Pussy?”

“Like, weak.”

“He’s not weak! He took care of me very well.”

Cartman snorted. “Oh did he? Better than me?”

“In some ways yes,” he said, basking in the memory of the human.

“Hmph.” Cartman crossed his arms, “Well there is only one thing to do.” He stood up, pulling the thin curtain closed, and took the old blanket that was hanging on the side, throwing it on the ground. He too followed suit, plopping himself down, and quite suddenly, grabbing Kyle’s waist and tugging towards him.

 “Uh – what are you doing?” he said, and then he felt himself being seated on the human’s lap. “Cartman!”

“What?”

He tried to pull away, but Cartman wouldn't budge. He repeated once more. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Well,” he said, spreading his legs more so Kyle literally sat between him. “I’m your master. And you have questions. So I’m gonna answer them.” And he leaned closer to Kyle’s ear, “And prove I’m better than Stan ever was.”

His tail twitched.

“So here’s my first lesson,” he whispered with an all knowing smile, “That thing down there between your legs…it produces cream.”

“Cream?”

“Yup. Special cream.” His hand twiddled down Kyle’s stomach, edging around his crotch. “Not even cow girls can make this.”

“Oh.” He stared down, “That makes sense.”

“And it’s stiff because it has the cream. So we’re gonna need to let that out.”

Kyle looked up. “And this will help with my problem?”

“Yup.” he pulled Kyle impossibly closer, “But you need to open your legs. Wide.”

“Okay…” he spread his legs as much as he could, being enclosed between Cartman’s thighs. “Like this?”

“Mm. Yeah but,” he placed his hands under Kyle’s smaller thighs, “Bend your knees a bit.”

Kyle did, watching how his legs followed Cartman’s suggestion. In all honestly, a small part of his brain told him how he should really back out of his situation – to forget it all and never know what this third leg did – but he was stupidly stubborn to say no now. Stan always did say he was more stubborn than a common cow boy.

Cartman leaned forward, his hand now on Kyle’s crotch, and he hissed at the feeling.

“Sensitive?”

“Yeah, is it always like this?”

“Sorta? It just happens…more often…now.”

Gently, Cartman began to fondle Kyle through his shorts, after several moments giving him a firm stroke.

“Starting to feel better?”

“I…” Kyle felt his throat constrict, “I think so.”

“Hm.” Cartman continued to watch his hand grope Kyle, and he leaned back against him. Assuming the ginger was comfortable, his hand then slithered under the shorts, finally grasping the tense flesh, and Kyle jerked.

“Ha…”

“Wow…” his hand squeezed the shaft, “You’re really hard cow boy.”

“Mhm. It wasn't like – ah! This before.” Kyle wanted to cover his eyes, blushing at the fact that felt so natural and enticing. He couldn't sit still, not with Cartman’s hand on him.

“What’s…” he stifled a moan, “What it’s name?”

“This?” his hands curled around the pink flesh, now moving up and down, “It’s called a cock Kyle.”

“C-Cock?”

“Yeah…different from the roaster outside. Like I said, all men have this. When tight, you gotta let out the cream, otherwise it’ll hurt like hell.”

“How do you – “ he closed his eyes, leaning back against Cartman’s chest, “Why does it get tight?”

“It gets tight when you see something that turns you on.”

“What does,” he bit his lip, “What does that mean?”

“It means…” he pumped the length harder, and Kyle moaned, “You like me.”

He blinked open his glazed eyes, face flushed red. “W-What?”

“Admit it Kyle. I’m the better farmer than Stan ever was. I treat you better than that hippie weed farmer ever did.”

“Don't – “ he gasped shallowly, “Say that.”

“You’re denying it ginger.” Cartman used his other hand to wrap around Kyle’s chest, pushing him forward for him to stare at his dick, “Look how hard you are. You like it.”

“I –“

“And you want to cum, so bad.”

He feverishly nodded. He had no idea what cum meant, but it must imply something good.

“Now push down your shorts, all the way off. Need more access to your cock.”

“A-All the way?” he never took of his shorts, not even with Stan.

“Of course all the way! Otherwise how can I get the cream out?”

After a moment’s hesitance, he shuffled the shorts off, completely naked from the bottom down. Now getting a clear view of his “cock”, he could see how taut and…red it was.

“That’s a good boy.” His thumb kept stroking at the head, in circular motion, and clear fluid slowly peered up.

“W-What’s that?” Kyle groaned.

“Pre-cum. That means you’re getting close.”

He heaved. “Close for what?”

His hand pumped even faster. “For the cream ginger cow.”

“Ah!” Kyle felt his cock twitch, so hot under his master’s hand. Being manipulated so openly like this should’ve felt shameful…but he wanted more. He needed harder strokes. He felt so on edge he instinctively grasped onto Cartman’s meaty arms, trying to stabilize himself as his eyes watered in bliss. Heat pooled at his stomach like no other feeling, and a weird rush of something building suddenly shot through him. He continued to gasp louder, cheeks red.

“Perfect…let it all out Kyle.” Even Cartman’s voice was oddly unhinged, and he lowered his mouth, edging it on Kyle’s neck. “So perfect.”

“I-haaa, s-something’s coming –“ Kyle curled his back, shaking, “Something’s coming Cartman.”

“It’s your cream. Now,” he nipped the pale skin, “Let it go. Cum for me… _Khal_.”

His breath hitched twice, almost if he hiccupped, but then he let out a long moan, squeezing his eyes at this thrilling sensation. White shot out, spilling over Cartman’s hand and Kyle’s stomach, dripping onto the blanket underneath. He threw his head back, wet all over, panting at the exhilarating ecstasy he just experienced. Cartman continued to pump, making sure every drop poured out.

“N-Ngh,”

“Now how was that?” Cartman cooed.

He tried to gather his breath. “G-Great. Really…great.”

“So it looks like we gotta do this every time we milk.”

He peered back, eyes glazy. “All the time? You don't…” he rasped, “Gather this cream?”

“Naw. Well, not today.” He shrugged, “Consider this just a sample test.” He licked a finger, sampling it with his tongue, and Kyle watched widely. “Eh. Not bad. Almost like your milk. It’s sweet.”

Kyle’s ear’s twitched at the compliment, shuddering in his spot. “T-Thanks –“ he then noticed something pressed quiet hard onto his lower back, above his curved naked bottom. He could feel heat reigning from it.

“What’s…” he glanced back, looking down, “What’s that?”

When Cartman peered down, his pupils dilated in realization.

“Your…your cock is stiff too.”

“Eh?”

He pointed to Cartman’s pants. “Do humans have the same problem? Do they need release too?”

Cartman stumbled up, and Kyle was shocked on how red Cartman became. “I don't need anything!”

He glared. “You said all males have this. Am I not mistaken, you’re also a male.”

“Yeah, but pff! I don't need help!”

“What? You don't think a cow boy can satisfy you?”

“Fuck, don't say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“That!” he gestured, “It’s already hard enough when you make those cute little sounds!”

 _Cute?_ That made his heart beat strangely fast. “I uh, won’t make any sounds?”

“Makes no difference!” Cartman slipped at the attempt to get away, and he fell right in front of Kyle, legs wide. Kyle pushed them open.

“Kyle – !”

The cow boy moved on closer, leaning forward to inspect the human’s member. It looked…big, under the fabric.

He reached out and grabbed the bulge, and Carman hissed in pleasure. Kyle noticed this.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, but…” he grabbed Kyle’s wrist, “T-Take off your gloves. If you’re gonna do this.”

“Oh. Right.” Cartman took his off when he handled his own cock. Made sense if he did the same.

Pulling off the long gloves, Kyle’s pale hands were finally exposed, and he palmed the crotch once again. Yes, it definitely felt bigger than his own. Perhaps human cock was naturally bigger?

Kyle wanted to see.

He tried finding an opening to go underneath, but there was nothing except for a zipper. He pulled it down, seeing if that would do anything, and to his shook it did.

A red welt of some kind came through the crevasse, and Kyle was baffled. This was Cartman’s cock? It was…big. Way bigger than he expected. He wasn't even sure he could hold it with only one hand.

When he grasped the base of it, the length hummed under his palms, emitting a strange heat. He also noticed there was a thin liquid already there.  
“Is this the pre-cum you talked bout?” he glanced at his fingers, seeing it thread between. “Uh, I should hurry then.”

He literally had no idea how he should handle this, but remember what Cartman did to his own, he could surely copy from memory. He twisted his hands up the shaft, focusing how it flexed under his hands.

“Shit, Kyle…” he groaned, “Feels good.”

“It does?”

“Yeah.”

He suddenly asked, “You said this is cream right?”

“Hm?” he peered open one eye, nodding, “Yeah, it’s a special male cream.”

Cartman felt something shuffle in front of him, and there, lying low, was his ginger cow, face inches away from his cock.

“K-Kyle?”

“I want…” Kyle gulped, “I want to try. I never had cream. You tried mine, and I wanna know if it tastes good.”

He tried pushing back. “W-Wait!”  
But Kyle circled his mouth around the tip of the thick length, and began to suckle.

“Fuuuuck,” Cartman groaned, seeing the mop of red hair bounce against his dick, and he leaned back on his palms, the wet tongue wrapping around him beautifully. He realized Kyle’s tongue wasn't large of any sort, but it still felt deliciously wonderful, those inexperienced lips travelling up and down, trying to take more.

Because Cartman already let out pre-cum, it didn't take long for his cock to jerk wildly into Kyle’s mouth, hollowing his cheeks with Kyle trying to get him to stay still.

Finally, Cartman’s cock gushed out thick white liquid, and green eyes’s widen at the sudden intensely of something shooting up into his throat. He plucked his swollen lips off, cum dripping in large chucks, staring up in exasperation.

“Your cream tastes weird,” Kyle said, frowning a bit as continued as his tongue tasted more. He wiped some of it off his face. “You said it would be sweet.”

“That’s your cum,” Cartman returned, sounding drained, “Your cum would always be sweeter than mine.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he closed up his zipper, and Kyle pulled back, the realization of this situation suddenly embarrassing him. He grabbed his shorts swiftly, not looking at Cartman as he dressed himself, trying to find his gloves. His tail twitched when he saw Cartman already holding out the gloves for him, almost if he was being considerate.

He took them silently, feeling warm all of a sudden, sliding the fabric back on his hands. He then stilled as his felt a familiar hand cup his cheek, and he faltered, staring back up, feeling as if something was awaiting him.

Cartman held him gently, and how his eyes gazed appeared as if he was trying to understand something, to decrypt, or fathom some unknown thought, and Kyle was oddly tempted to close his eyes, inhaling through his nose with contentment.

But the hand slipped away, and Kyle blinked in confusion.

“Well!” he grabbed his stuff, avoiding his face from Kyle’s view, and a dull thud stirred in Kyle’s chest, “See you tomorrow cow boy!”

“Yeah…” his ears flickered down, mumbling. “ See ya.” Rain boots crunched under the hay, and when they were far enough Kyle looked back, wondering if he was still there, but of course, he wasn't.

He stared at the ceiling, sighing disheartedly at what transpired, and what that lingering hand meant.

It suddenly dawned on him for a split second he wished he was fully human, so he didn't have to leave him here alone in this barn.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done! One more to go to conclude this mini multi fic. I feel like I'm putting way too much effort into this bout who the fuck cares. It's fun to write.
> 
> Also noted, I won't post anything for the rest of the month. Will pick up in Feb!


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